The Pretender Read Free Page B

fifteen minutes and take tea. You shall never have to say a word."
    "Your
husband?”
" Mr. Rain stood abruptly. "Here now, we ain't married! What if your mister finds out? He'll make a spot of trouble for me, he will. I would, if'n you was mine."
    "You would? I mean to say, of course you would. But there is no need to worry about Mr. Applequist. He—"
    Sounds of arriving guests came through the closed door to the entrance hall. Agatha panicked. Oh, this was going very badly indeed!
    "He doesn't exist at all, Mr. Rain!" she hissed, even as Pearson opened the door to announce her guests. "I'm
not
married, there will be
no
trouble made for you, and you mustn't utter
one single word!"

----
Chapter Two

     
    Agatha's chest tightened with anxiety as she smiled fixedly at her guests. Or perhaps her corset was laced too snugly. Surely the cause could not be the strong thigh pressed to her own or the clean scent of freshly bathed male.
    Whatever the reason, she felt quite breathless as she sat next to Mr. Rain, across from Lady Winchell and her two companions.
    Despite the pains Agatha had taken to fill the parlor with colorful comfort, Lady Winchell remained perched on the edge of her brocade chair as if she feared soiling her dress.
    The lady made a slight face at her tea and set the cup and saucer down. The movement only accentuated the elegant curve of her figure, clad in her signature shade of mint green, and made Agatha yearn for a little lithesome grace instead of her own dumpling shape.
    "When dear Agatha told us about you, Mr. Applequist, I must confess I thought you too good to be true." She turned her piercing gaze on Agatha, then dropped her eyes to Agatha's gloveless hands. "I've noticed before that you don't wear your wedding ring, my dear. Have you lost it somehow?"
    The ring.
She'd forgotten the wedding ring entirely. "Ah— no, no indeed. But I've been leaving it off to work at the hospital. I feared to ruin it. It's—it's an Applequist family heirloom." For a moment Agatha could even picture the ring. Sapphire, she decided. Just like Mortimer's eyes—wait, those were Simon's.
    Blast
. The next thing she knew, she'd be believing her own deception.
    "Him." The lady did not seem impressed. She turned to Simon. "You know she thinks you single-handedly hung the stars, don't you, sir?"
    All eyes turned to "Mortimer" and Agatha began to panic once more.
    "My Mortie did hang the stars! At least the ones in my eyes!" Agatha dug her nails into her companion's arm. He turned to her with that smile of his, and two of the three ladies sighed audibly. Lady Winchell only narrowed her eyes.
    "Ah, you must tell us all about your travels, Mr. Applequist. Only then will we be able to understand how you could tear yourself away from such an adoring young bride."
    Agatha watched in horror as her chimneysweep actually opened his mouth to speak. Grinding her heel into his instep, she rushed to answer for him.
    "Oh, well! I cannot be so bold as to think my simple company can compare with the excitement of tiger hunts in India, can I, darling?" The ladies turned their attention back to her. Good. Now she must think quickly!
    Papa had always been easily distracted by her Banbury tales. Surely she could deflect a more discriminating audience. Her purpose depended on it. She lowered her voice to add some excitement to her yarn.
    "Imagine, swaying atop an elephant as the mighty beast crashes his way through the jungle. Contemplate the tension as the party grows ever closer to their vicious prey. Can you envision the sight he must have made, whilst he raised his rifle to fire upon the tiger?"
    Mrs. Trapp and Mrs. Sloane were enraptured. Not so Lady Winchell.
    "Tiger hunting in India? Truly? While most of our young men fight the demon Napoleon?"
    "But Mortimer was on a mission—for the Prince—carrying a message to the Rajah," blurted Agatha. "The tiger hunt was necessary when… when the beast stole away the Rajah's only son! Mortimer saved